


Crossing The Distance

by Khalindora



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Shaving/Manscaping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 14:45:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18096380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khalindora/pseuds/Khalindora
Summary: Ruud receives a mysterious package.





	Crossing The Distance

**Author's Note:**

> Written & posted back in 2005 on LJ.
> 
> Disclaimer: Obviously this has never happened!
> 
> Author's Note: This is UNBETAED, so there might be spelling mistakes, bad grammar, missing words and let's not talk about wrong dialogue/action tags. However Cristiano's English is supposed to sound broken. ;)
> 
> Dedicated to my fellow R/R fangirls leetje & thedevilchicken. Thanks for your support and inspiration.

If it was possible to die of boredom Ruud was sure he wouldn’t live much longer. He couldn’t recall an evening in the last couple of years he had been this bored. Usually there was always something he had to do. Be it training, meetings or some charity event, but today there was absolutely nothing left on his agenda.

In the morning, he had gone to his rehabilitation training at the hospital, in Eindhoven, and afterwards should have met up with someone from the press for an interview. But the media appointment got cancelled. So after his training he had driven home and waited if someone would call him, asking if he would like to meet up tonight. Yet his phone had stayed silent. For the last hour he had tried to entertain himself by switching back and forth through the TV channels, but no programme had managed to spark just the slightest bit of interest in him.

Sighing he got up, stretched his injured leg cautiously to see if it would hurt. Feeling no pain brought a smile to his face. It seemed that the people here really knew how to treat his injury.

Although his recovery was going well, he wished he was back in Manchester. True, the idea of spending a month here, at home in Holland, had looked great at first. It felt like ages, since he had been able to spend some spare time with his family and friends. But now, after nearly four weeks, he seemed to get restless, and he really missed Cristiano.

His teammate and lover hadn’t liked the idea of him going to Holland from the start. When Ruud had told him about it, Cris had been furious, refusing to understand the reasons why he wanted to go home. He had accused him of running away from their relationship, of not caring for him and many other things. And no matter how much Ruud had tried to calm him down, convincing him that it wasn’t because of them, and that he did care, Cristiano hadn’t believed him.

“Stop behaving like a brat, Cris.” Ruud snapped at him. “For once, just try to understand me and my situation.”

He hadn’t meant to snap at him, but he had gotten so irritated by Cristiano’s childish behaviour that he hadn’t managed to shut himself up.

Ruud remembered how Cristiano’s face had flushed and his eyes had narrowed. He had grabbed his jacket and went straight to the door. But before he left, he had turned around and looked at him.

“You’ll miss me!” Cris had predicted and Ruud had snorted at that. As it turned out, Cris had indeed been right in the end.

He had tried to call him on New Years Eve, but Cristiano hadn’t answered his phone, so he had left him a voice mail, wishing him a Happy New Year in advance. And he had called him again the next day, after the Boro game. Wanting to know how bad Cris’ injury was. Yet again Cristiano seemed to have turned off his cell. Ruud had been so infuriated that he had wanted to smash his cell against the wall.

And the only good thing about that awful game against Tottenham had been seeing that Cristiano was in the line-up. Ruud had been more than relieved to see him play, even if Cris’ performance still wasn’t up to his usual standards.

But it wasn’t just the fact that Ruud missed Cristiano; no, he started to worry about him. Especially when he watched Cristiano’s temper flaring up during the game against Chelsea.

To Ruud it was more than evident that Cristiano wasn’t just a bit frustrated. And he wished he could have been there to calm him down. The next morning he had called the gaffer and said that he wanted to come back to Manchester, but he had been advised to stay till February.

The ringing of the doorbell brought an end to his musings. It seemed that finally someone had decided to relieve him of this misery called boredom. To his surprise it wasn’t the voice of a friend that answered him through the intercom. Instead someone from a mail express service told him he got a delivery.

Wondering what that delivery could be, he went downstairs and opened the door. The package was rather large and according to the address it came from United. Maybe they had collected part of his fan-mail and thought he would like to read a couple of hundreds ‘Get Well’ cards. He smiled at the thought; usually he never had enough time to really read through all the letters he got and he often regretted that. But right now he had time, and it would be a welcome distraction.

Opening the parcel revealed that it wasn’t fan-mail. He took out the first box looked at it and frowned. It was a brand new cell phone. Who would send him that? He already had one, and hadn’t mentioned to anyone that he needed a new one. The lettering on the next box said it contained a wireless microphone head-set. This was getting stranger by the minute. And as he glanced at what was left in the parcel he had to rub his eyes. A laptop? What the heck was going on? Taking the laptop out of the parcel, he saw that an envelope was attached to it. Maybe that would explain the mystery of this.

The card inside the envelope consisted of only five words, in a very familiar scrawl.

~ Miss me yet? Start computer. ~

So the parcel was from Cris. The question now was why had he sent him a laptop? He guessed it might be a new game, as Cristiano was sort of addicted to games. Ruud remembered how they had spent night after night playing the latest version of the FIFA game on Cristiano’s Playstation 2. Sighing, he freed the laptop of its package, placed it on the small table in front of him, pushed the power button and waited.

The computer beeped once and after twenty seconds it revealed another surprise. Cristiano had left him a text file on how to proceed, and what the cell phone was actually good for. Due to the Bluetooth technology of the cell and the laptop, he was able to establish a connection to the internet. He plugged in the receiver of the head-set and slipped it on. Cris had obviously remembered his dislike for certain headphones which tended to squash his ears and gave him a headache as a bonus, but this set fit him perfectly.

Adjusting the microphone he looked at the last of the instructions, and clicked on the symbol looking like two little figures and a butterfly.

A new window popped up, telling him to ‘Sign in’, once more he moved the cursor of the mouse over it, clicking. Before he had a chance to explore that instant messaging programme another window opened, and he had to suppress a laugh when a certain someone named ‘Golden Boots’ send him a webcam invitation.

He accepted the invitation and a moment later he saw Cristiano’s face on his monitor.

“Hear me? See me?” Cristiano asked, waving his hand into the camera.

“Yes, I can,” Ruud said, a smile playing on his lips. Seeing Cristiano made him realize just how much he had missed him.

“Good,” Cristiano said, nodding once.

“How come you didn’t send me a webcam?” Ruud asked, wondering if Cris didn’t want to see him.

“You not need one. Just watch.” Cristiano simply said, shrugging his shoulders and grinning.

“What are you up to?” Ruud asked, raising an eyebrow. He knew that sly grin his lover was giving him.

Cristiano didn’t answer, he was busy pulling off his head-set, before moving his hands to the hem of his black shirt, drawing it up and over his head. He threw the shirt away carelessly and slipped his head-set back on.

As Ruud watched Cris running his hands over his chest, teasing his nipples in the wake, he noticed that Cristiano’s chest wasn’t as smooth and hairless as it used to be. Now that was a surprise, he knew that Cris was obsessed with shaving off his body hair. Ruud remembered how his jaw had dropped, the day he encountered just how vast Cristiano’s collection of hair removal products were.

“You didn’t shave.” Ruud stated the obvious, and watched Cristiano shake his head slightly.

He was about to ask why exactly Cris had stopped neglecting his obsessive habit. But his words caught in his throat, as Cristiano closed his eyes moaning, while his hand had slipped inside his jeans to cup his prick.

That little tease, he kept giving him coy looks as his fingers slowly undid the buttons of his trousers. Ruud couldn’t help but squirm in his chair. He imagined it were his hands undoing those buttons, brushing his fingers over his lovers cock.

Ruud wasn’t sure how long Cristiano drew out the task of opening his jeans and getting rid of them, but it certainly felt like hours. His hands had started to get sweaty and his lips and throat felt rather dry. Cristiano was sprawling in his chair, running his hands over his chest and down to brush over his erection.

“You like?” Cristiano asked, giving him a playful smile.

“You have no idea how much.” Ruud said, his voice nothing more than a husky whisper.

Cristiano smirked at him, reaching out for something Ruud couldn’t quite identify at first. It turned out to be shaving cream. And Cris put on another show by lathering up his chest, stomach and groin with it.

“Christmas present for you,” Cristiano said, cocking his head to the side. “You wanted to watch, yes?”

“Yes,” Ruud confessed, nodding his head.

It was true, he had always wanted to watch Cris shave himself, but his lover had never allowed him to. Cristiano had locked himself in the bathroom every single time. One day, Ruud had had enough and asked him if he would let him watch, Cris had just smiled at him but told him no.

And now he was here, sprawled out on his leather chair, dragging the razor slowly over his chest, wiping it now and then, before resuming to the task of ridding his body of the unwanted hair. Ruud’s own hand had slipped inside his sweat pants, stroking and squeezing his cock, which had gotten hard as soon as he had heard Cristiano’s deep voice.

“You’re killing me, Cris,” Ruud moaned, but Cristiano seemed to have no mercy on him.

After Cris had finished his little shaving show, Ruud saw him reach out for a small tube. A tube he knew all to well. He couldn’t recall how many times he had fished it out of their bedside drawer.

And right then, as Cristiano winked at him, Ruud wished for nothing more than to be back in Manchester. Wished he could really reach out and touch Cristiano, not just watch him through some fancy technology. He wanted it to be his thumb that uncapped the tube, wanted it to be his hand that curled around Cristiano’s cock, wanted it to be his fingers that rubbed the colorless gel between them to warm it, before brushing his slicked fingers against Cristiano’s entrance.

But he could do nothing, nothing more than watch, as Cris spread his legs even further to find a more comfortable position. His right hand kept on stroking his cock, while the slicked fingers of his left, slid in and out of his puckered opening.

Ruud knew he wouldn’t be able to take much more of this. His body was already tensing up and as he heard Cristiano moan loudly, and had to watch him come all over his stomach, his own breath hitched in his throat and he spilled his hot seed over his hand.

Wiping his hands on his sweat pants, he saw Cristiano rubbing his stomach in lazy circles before sitting up and looking into the camera.

“I miss you, Ruud,” Cristiano confessed, hugging himself. “Come home soon.”

“I’ll try to,” Ruud said, brushing his fingers over the monitor. “Good luck for tomorrow.”

Cristiano smiled at him, “I’ll score for you,” he promised.

And the next day Ruud watched in amazement how Cristiano did indeed keep his promise, by scoring against Exeter. But that hadn’t been the only surprise for Ruud that day. Cris had also sent him another package containing a webcam, shaving cream and a razor which had a notice attached to it, saying:

~ Your turn. ~


End file.
